GIDEON’S CHOSEN LOCATION was paradise. His pilot took us over the Windward Islands, flying low over the impossibly beautiful blue waters of the tranquil Caribbean into a private airport not far from our ultimate destination, the Crosswinds resort.
We were both still pretty shell-shocked when the plane landed. Gideon had had the orgasm of his life, after all. We had our passports stamped with our hair still wet, our hands linked tightly together. We hardly spoke, either to each other or to anyone else. I think we were both too raw.
We slid into a waiting limousine and Gideon poured himself a stiff drink. His face gave nothing away, his guard up and impenetrable. I shook my head when he held up the crystal decanter in silent query.
He settled on the seat beside me and put his arm around my shoulders.
I snuggled into him, draping my legs over his lap. “Are we okay?”
He pressed a hard kiss to my forehead. “Yes.”
“I love you.”
“I know.” He tossed back his drink and set the empty tumbler in a cup holder.
We didn’t say anything else on the long drive from the airport to the resort. It was dark by the time we arrived, but the open-air lobby was brightly lit. Framed by lush potted plants and decorated in dark woods and colorful ceramic tiles, the front desk welcomed guests with a carefree yet elegant style.
The hotel manager was waiting on the circular front drive as we rolled to a stop. His appearance was immaculate, his smile wide. He was clearly excited to have Gideon in residence and doubly so that Gideon knew his name—Claude.
Claude spoke animatedly, as we followed along behind him with our hands linked firmly together. No one could tell from looking at Gideon how intimate and exposed to each other we’d been only an hour or so before. While my hair had dried in a messy mop, his looked as gorgeous and sexy as ever. His suit was perfectly pressed and beautifully worn, while my dress looked a little limp after the long day. My makeup had washed off in the shower, leaving me pale with the remnants of raccoon eyes.
Yet Gideon’s possessiveness toward me was clear in the way he gripped me, and how he steered me into our suite in front of him with his hand at the small of my back. He made me feel safe and accepted, even though he was in his work persona and I wasn’t at my best, which reflected on him.
I loved him for that.
I just wished he weren’t so quiet. It made me worry. And it totally made me doubt my decision to push him after he’d told me to stop more than once. What the hell did I know about what he needed to get better?
As the manager continued to talk to Gideon, I moved slowly through the massive living area, with its wide-open terrace and white couches spread across bamboo floors. The master bedroom was equally impressive, with a large bed framed by mosquito netting and another open terrace that led directly to a private swimming pool with an infinity edge that made it look like part of the shimmering ocean just beyond it.
A warm breeze blew in, kissing my face and sifting through my hair. The rising moon cast a trail over the ocean, and the distant sounds of laughter and reggae made me feel isolated in a way that wasn’t quite pleasant.
Nothing was right when Gideon was off.
“Do you like it?” he asked quietly.
I turned to face him and heard the front door shut in the other room. “It’s fantastic.”
He gave a curt nod. “I ordered dinner in. Tilapia and rice, some fresh fruit and cheese.”
“Awesome. I’m starving.”
“There are clothes for you in the closet and drawers. You’ll find bikinis, too, but the pool and beach are private, so you don’t need them unless you want them. If there’s anything missing, just let me know and we’ll get it brought in.”
I stared at him, noting the several feet between us. His eyes glittered in the soft light cast by the dimmed cam lighting and bedside table lamps. He was edgy and distant, and I felt tears building in the back of my throat.
“Gideon . . .” I held my hand out to him. “Did I make a mistake? Did I break something between us?”
“Angel.” He sighed. He came close enough to catch my hand and lift it to his lips. Up close I could see how his gaze darted away, as if he had a hard time looking at me. A sick feeling settled in my gut. “Crossfire.”
The one word came out so low, I almost thought I’d imagined it. Then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me sweetly.
“Ace.” Pushing onto my tiptoes, I cupped the back of his neck and kissed him back with everything I had.
He pulled away too quickly. “Let’s change for dinner before it gets here. I could stand being in less clothes.”
I stepped back reluctantly, acknowledging that he had to be hot in his suit, but still sensing that something wasn’t right. That feeling worsened when Gideon left the room to change and I realized we wouldn’t be sharing the same bedroom.
* * *
I kicked off my shoes in the walk-in closet that was filled with way too many clothes for a weekend trip. Most were white. Gideon liked me in white. I suspected it was because he thought of me as his angel.
Did he still think of me that way now? Or was I the devil? A selfish bitch who made him face demons he’d rather forget?
I changed into a simple cotton slip dress in black, which matched my funereal mood. I felt like something had died between us.
Gideon and I had stumbled many times before, but I’d never felt this level of withdrawal from him. This discomfort and unease.
I’d felt it with other guys, when they were getting ready to tell me they didn’t want to see me anymore.
Dinner arrived and was neatly laid out on the terrace table overlooking the secluded beach. I saw a white tent cabana on the sand and remembered Gideon’s dream of us rolling around on a chaise for two by the water, making love.
My heart hurt.
I gulped two glasses of crisp, fruity white wine and went through the motions of eating, even though I’d lost my appetite. Gideon sat across from me in loose white linen drawstring pants and nothing else, which just made everything worse. He was so handsome, so goddamned sexy it was impossible not to stare at him. But he was miles away from me. A silent, forceful presence that made me want with every fiber of my soul.
The emotional gulf between us was growing. I couldn’t reach across it.
I pushed my plate away once I’d cleared it and realized Gideon had hardly eaten at all. He’d just forked his food around and helped me drain the bottle of wine.
Taking a deep breath, I told him, “I’m sorry. I should’ve . . . I didn’t . . .” I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered.
Shoving back from the table with a loud screech of the chair legs across the tile, I hurried away from the patio.
“Eva! Wait.”
My feet hit the warm sand and I ran toward the ocean, pulling my dress off and colliding with water that felt as hot as a bath. It was shallow for several feet, then dropped off suddenly, plunging me in below my head. I bent my knees and sank, grateful to be submerged and hidden as I cried.
The weightlessness soothed my heavy heart. My hair billowed around me and I felt the soft brush of fish as they darted past the invader in their silent, peaceful world.
Being yanked back into reality had me sputtering and flailing.
“Angel.” Gideon growled and took my mouth, kissing me hard and furious as he stalked out of the water and up the beach. He took me to the cabana and dropped me onto the chaise, covering me with his body before I fully caught my breath.
I was still dizzy when he groaned and said, “Marry me.”
But that wasn’t why I said, “Yes.”
* * *
GIDEON had gone into the water after me with his pants on. The soaked linen clung to my bare legs as he sprawled over me and kissed me as if he were dying of a thirst only I could quench. His hands were in my hair, holding me still. His mouth was frantic, his lips swollen like mine, his tongue greedy and possessive.
I lay beneath him unmoving. Shocked. My startled brain quickly caught up.
He’d been agonizing over popping the question, not because he was leaving me.
“Tomorrow,” he bit out, rubbing his cheek against mine. The first tingle of stubble roughened his jaw, the sensation jolting me into a deeper awareness of where we were and what he wanted.
“I—” My mind stuttered to a halt again.
“The word is yes, Eva.” He pushed up and stared down at me fiercely. “Real simple—yes.”
I swallowed hard. “We can’t get married tomorrow.”
“We can,” he said emphatically, “and we will. I need it, Eva. I need the vows, the legality . . . I’m going crazy without them.”
I felt the world spinning, like I was on one of those fun-house barrel rides that revolve so fast you’re stuck to the wall with centrifugal force when the floor drops away from your feet. “It’s too soon,” I protested.
“You can say that to me after the flight over?” he snapped. “You fucking own me, Eva. I’ll be damned if I don’t own you back.”
“I can’t breathe,” I gasped, inexplicably panicked.
Gideon rolled, pulling me on top of him, his arms banding around me. Possessing me. “You want this,” he insisted. “You love me.”
“I do, yes.” I dropped my forehead to his chest. “But you’re rushing into—”
“You think I’d ask you this on the fly? For God’s sake, Eva, you know me better than that. I’ve been planning this for weeks. It’s all I’ve thought about.”
“Gideon . . . we can’t just run off and elope.”
“The hell we can’t.”
“What about our families? Or friends?”
“We’ll get married again for them. I want that, too.” He brushed the wet hair off my cheek. “I want pictures of us in the newspapers, magazines . . . everywhere. But that will take months. I can’t wait that long. This is for us. We don’t have to tell anyone, if you don’t want. We can call it an engagement. It can be our secret.”
I stared at him, not knowing what to say. His urgency was both romantic and terrifying.
“I asked your dad,” he went on, shocking me all over again. “He didn’t have any—”
“What? When?”
“When he was in town. I had an opportunity and I took it.”
For some reason, that hurt. “He didn’t tell me.”
“I told him not to. Told him it wasn’t going to happen right away. That I was still working on getting you back. I recorded it, so you can listen to the conversation if you don’t believe me.”
I blinked down at him. “You recorded it?” I repeated.
“I wasn’t leaving anything to chance,” he said unapologetically.
“You told him it wouldn’t be right away. You lied to him.”
His smile was razor sharp. “I didn’t lie. It’s been a few days.”
“Oh my God. You’re crazy.”
“Possibly. If so, you’ve made me this way.” He pressed a hard kiss to my cheek. “I can’t live without you, Eva. I can’t even imagine trying. Just the thought makes me insane.”
“This is insane.”
“Why?” He frowned. “You know there’s no one else for either of us. What are you waiting for?”
Arguments rushed through my mind. Every reason we should wait, every possible pitfall seemed crystal clear. But nothing came out of my mouth.
“I’m not giving you any options here,” he said decisively, twisting up and standing with me cradled in his arms. “We’re doing this, Eva. Enjoy your last remaining hours as a single woman.”
* * *
“GIDEON,” I gasped, my head thrashing as the orgasm poured through me.
His sweat dripped onto my chest, his hips tireless as he stroked his magnificent penis into me over and over, rolling and thrusting, shallow then deep.
“That’s it,” he praised hoarsely, “squeeze my dick just like that. You feel so good, angel. You’re going to make me come again.”
I panted for breath, boneless and tired from his unrelenting demands. He’d woken me twice before, taking me with skilled precision, imprinting onto my brain and my body that I belonged to him. That I was his and he could do whatever he wanted to me.
It made me so hot.
“Umm . . .” He purred, sliding his cock deep. “You’re so creamy with my cum. I love the way you feel when I’ve been at you all night. A lifetime of this, Eva. I’ll never stop.”
I draped my leg over his hip, holding him in me. “Kiss me.”
His wickedly curved mouth brushed over mine.
“Love me,” I demanded, my nails digging into his hips as he flexed inside me.
“I do, angel,” he whispered, his smile widening. “I do.”
* * *
WHEN I woke, he was gone.
I stretched in a tangle of sheets that smelled of sex and Gideon and breathed in the salt-tinged breeze drifting through the open patio doors.
I lay there for a while, thinking over the night and the day before. Then the weeks before, and the few months since I’d met Gideon. Then beyond that. Back to Brett and others I had dated. Back to a time when I’d been so certain I would never find a man who loved me for who I was, with all my emotional scars and baggage and neediness.
What else could I say besides yes, now that by some miracle I’d found him?
Rolling out of bed, I felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of finding Gideon and agreeing to marry him without reservation. I loved the idea of eloping with him, of our first vows spoken in private, with no one watching who harbored doubts or dislike or bad wishes. After all we’d both been through, it made perfect sense for our new beginning to be filled with nothing but love and hope and happiness.
I should’ve known he’d plan it all perfectly, from the privacy to the exclusive locale. Of course we’d get married on a beach. Beaches held fond memories for both of us, not the least of which was our last time away at the Outer Banks.
When I saw the breakfast tray on the coffee table in the bedroom’s seating area, I smiled. There was a white silk robe draped over the back of the chair, too.
Gideon never missed a trick.
I pulled the robe on and reached to pour myself a cup of coffee, wanting a caffeine boost before I searched for him in the suite and gave him my answer. That was when I saw the prenuptial agreement tucked beneath the covered breakfast plate.
My hand froze halfway to the carafe. The agreement was tastefully arranged beneath the single red rose in a slender white vase, with the silverware gleaming from an artfully folded cloth napkin.
I don’t know why I was so surprised and . . . crushed. Of course, Gideon would’ve planned everything down to the last detail—starting with the prenup. After all, hadn’t he tried to start our relationship with an agreement?
All of my giddy happiness left me in a rush. Deflated, I turned away from the tray and headed into the shower instead. I took my time washing up, moving in slow motion. I decided I’d rather say no than read a legal document that put a price on my love. A love that was precious and priceless to me.
Still, I feared it was too late, that the damage was already done. Just knowing he’d had a prenup drafted changed everything and I couldn’t blame him for that. For God’s sake, he was Gideon Cross. One of the twenty-five richest men in the world. It was inconceivable that he wouldn’t demand a prenuptial agreement. And I wasn’t naïve. I knew better than to dream of Prince Charming and castles in the sky.
Showered and clothed in a light sundress, I pulled my hair back in a wet ponytail and went for the coffee. I poured a cup, added cream and sweetener, then slid the prenup free and stepped out to the patio.
Down on the beach, preparations were under way for the wedding. A flower-covered arch had been placed by the shoreline and braided white ribbon had been draped across the sand to mark an impromptu aisle.
I chose to sit with my back to the view, because it hurt to look at it.
I took a sip of coffee, let it soak into me, then took another. I was halfway done with my cup when I gathered enough courage to read the damn legalese. The opening few pages detailed the assets we owned separately prior to marriage. Gideon’s holdings were staggering. When did he find time to sleep? I thought the dollar amount attributed to me was wrong, until I considered how long the principal had been sitting in investments.
Stanton had taken my five million and doubled it.
It struck me then how stupid I was for just sitting on it, instead of investing it where it could help those who needed it. I’d been acting like that blood money didn’t exist when I should’ve been putting it to work. I made a mental note to tackle that project as soon as I got back to New York.
After that, the reading got interesting.
Gideon’s first stipulation was that I take the Cross name as my own. I could keep Tramell as an additional middle name, but with no hyphenation as a surname. Eva Cross—it was nonnegotiable. And so very like him. My domineering lover made no apologies for his caveman tendencies.
His second stipulation was that I accept ten million from him upon the wedding, doubling my personal estate just for saying I do. Every year thereafter, he gave me more. I would receive bonuses for each child we had together, be paid for going to couples therapy with him. I agreed to counseling and mediation in the event of a divorce. I agreed to share a residence with him, bimonthly vacations, date nights . . .
The more I read, the more I understood. The prenup didn’t protect Gideon’s assets at all. He gave them freely, going so far as to stipulate up front that fifty percent of everything he acquired from our marriage onward was irrefutably mine. Unless he cheated. If that happened, it cost him severely.
The prenup was designed to protect his heart, to bind me and bribe me to stay with him no matter what. He was giving everything he had.
He joined me on the terrace when I flipped to the last page, strolling out in a pair of partially buttoned jeans and nothing else. I knew his perfectly timed arrival wasn’t coincidental. He’d been watching me from somewhere, gauging my reaction.
I brushed the tears from my cheeks with studied nonchalance. “Good morning, ace.”
“Morning, angel.” He bent and pressed a kiss to my cheek before taking the chair at the end of the table to my left.
A member of the staff came out with breakfast and coffee, arranging the place settings quickly and efficiently before disappearing as swiftly as he’d appeared.
I looked at Gideon, at the way the tropical breeze adored him and played with that sexy mane of hair. Sitting there as he was, so virile and casual, he wasn’t at all the cut-and-dried presentation of dollar signs I’d seen in the prenup.
Allowing the pages to flip back to the first page, I set my hand on top of it and said, “Nothing in this document can keep me married to you.”
He took a quick, deep breath. “Then we’ll revisit and revise. Name your terms.”
“I don’t want your money. I want this,” I gestured at him. “Especially this.” I leaned forward and placed my hand over his heart. “You’re the only thing that can hold me, Gideon.”
“I don’t know how to do this, Eva.” He caught my hand and held it pressed flat to his chest. “I’m going to fuck up. And you’ll want to run.”
“Not anymore,” I argued. “Haven’t you noticed?”
“I noticed you running into the ocean last night and sinking like a damn stone!” Leaning forward, he held my gaze. “Don’t argue the prenup on principle. If there are no deal breakers for you in it, live with it. For me.”
I sat back. “You and I have a long way to go,” I said softly. “A document can’t force us to believe in each other. I’m talking about trust, Gideon.”
“Yeah, well—” He hesitated. “I don’t trust myself not to fuck this up, and you don’t trust that you’ve got what I need. We trust each other just fine. We can work on the rest together.”
“Okay.” I watched his eyes light up and knew I was making the right decision, even if I was still partially convinced that it was a decision we were making too soon. “I do have one revision.”
“Name it.”
“You just did. The name issue.”
“Nonnegotiable,” he said flatly, with an empathic swipe of his hand for good measure.
I arched a brow. “Don’t be a fucking Neanderthal. I want to take my dad’s name, too. He’s wanted that and it’s bothered him my whole life. This is my chance to fix it.”
“So, Eva Lauren Reyes Cross?”
“Eva Lauren Tramell Reyes Cross.”
“That’s a mouthful, angel,” he drawled, “but do what makes you happy. That’s all I want.”
“All I want is you,” I told him, leaning forward to offer him my mouth for a kiss.
His lips touched mine. “Let’s make it official.”
* * *
I married Gideon Geoffrey Cross barefoot on a Caribbean beach with the hotel manager and Angus McLeod as witnesses. I hadn’t realized Angus was there, but I was pleased that he was.
It was a quick, beautifully simple ceremony. I could tell from the beaming smiles of the reverend and Claude that they were honored to officiate over Gideon’s nuptials.
I wore the prettiest dress I’d found in the closet. Strapless and ruched from breasts to hips, with petals of organza floating down to my feet, it was a sweet yet sexy romantic gown. My hair was up in an elegantly messy knot with a red rose tucked into it. The hotel provided a bouquet of white-ribboned jasmine.
Gideon wore graphite gray slacks and an untucked white dress shirt. He went barefoot, too. I cried when he repeated his vows, his voice strong and sure, even while his eyes betrayed a heated yearning.
He loved me so much.
The entire ceremony was intimate and deeply personal. Perfect.
I missed my mom and dad and Cary. I missed Ireland and Stanton and Clancy. But when Gideon bent to seal our marriage with a kiss, he whispered, “We’ll do this again. As many times as you want.”
I loved him so much.
Angus stepped up to kiss me on both cheeks. “It does me good to see you both so happy.”
“Thank you, Angus. You’ve taken good care of him for a long time.”
He smiled, his eyes glistening as he turned to Gideon. He said something so heavily accented by his Scottish heritage, I couldn’t be sure it was any form of English at all. Whatever it was, it made Gideon’s eyes shine, too. How much of a surrogate father had Angus been to Gideon over the years? I would always be grateful to him for giving Gideon support and affection when he desperately needed it.
We cut a small cake and toasted with champagne on the terrace of our suite. We signed the register the reverend offered and were given our certificate of marriage to sign as well. Gideon’s fingers brushed over it reverently.
“Is this what you needed?” I teased him. “This piece of paper?”
“I need you, Mrs. Cross.” He pulled me close. “I wanted this.”
Angus took both the certificate and prenup with him when he made himself scarce. Both had been duly notarized by the hotel manager and would end up wherever Gideon kept such things.
As for Gideon and me, we ended up in the cabana, tangled naked with each other. We sipped chilled champagne, touched each other playfully and greedily, and kissed lazily as the day crawled by.
That was perfect, too.
* * *
“SO, how are we handling this when we get back?” I asked him, as we ate a candlelit dinner in the dining room of our suite. “The whole we-ran-off-and-got-hitched explanation.”
Gideon shrugged and licked melted butter off his thumb. “However you want.”
I pulled the meat out of a crab leg and considered the options. “I want to tell Cary for sure. And I think my dad will be okay with it. I kind of talked around it when I called him earlier and he told me you’d asked him, so he’s prepared. I don’t think Stanton will care much either way, no offense.”
“None taken.”
“I’m worried about my mom, though. Things are already rough between us. She’ll be totally stoked that we’re married”—I paused a minute, absorbing that for the millionth time—“but I don’t want her to think that I left her out because I’m mad at her.”
“Let’s just tell her and everyone else we’re engaged.”
I dunked the crabmeat into drawn butter, thinking I wanted to get very used to seeing Gideon shirtless and sated and relaxed. “She’ll have a conniption if we live together before the wedding.”
“Well, then she’ll have to plan fast,” he said dryly. “You’re my wife, Eva. I don’t care if anyone else knows it or not, I know it. And I want to come home to you, have coffee in the morning with you, zip up the back of your dresses, and unzip them at night.”
Watching him snap a crab leg with his hands, I asked, “Will you wear a wedding band?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
That made me smile. He paused and stared at me.
“What?” I prompted, when he didn’t say anything. “Do I have butter splashed on my face?”
He sat back with a deep exhalation. “You’re beautiful. I love looking at you.”
I felt my face heat. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“It’s starting to go away,” he murmured.
My smile faded. “What? What’s going away?”
“The . . . worry. It feels safe, doesn’t it?” He sipped his wine. “Settled. It’s a good feeling. I like it. A lot.”
I hadn’t had as much time to get used to the idea of being married, but as I sat back and really thought about it, I had to agree. He was mine. No one could doubt it now. “I like it, too.”
He lifted my hand to his lips. The ring he’d given me caught the candlelight and glimmered with multihued fire. It was a tastefully large Asscher-cut diamond in a vintage setting. I loved the timeless sophistication of it, but more so because it was the ring his father had married his mother with.
Even though Gideon was deeply wounded by his parents’ betrayals, their time together as a family of three was the last true happiness he remembered before meeting me.
And he swore he wasn’t romantic.
He caught me admiring the ring. “You like it.”
“I do.” I looked at him. “It’s one of a kind. I was thinking we could do something unusual with our home, too.”
“Oh?” He squeezed my hand and resumed eating.
“I understand the need to sleep apart, but I don’t like having doors and walls between us.”
“I don’t, either, but your safety comes first.”
“How about a master suite with two bedrooms connected by a bathroom with no doors. Just archways or passageways. So technically, we’re still in the same open space.”
He considered that a minute, then nodded. “Draw it up and we’ll bring in a designer to make it happen. We’ll continue staying on the Upper West Side for now while we have the penthouse refinished. Cary can take a look at the adjoining one-bedroom apartment and make any changes he wants at the same time.”
I rubbed my bare foot along the back of his calf as a thank-you. The sounds of music drifted in on the evening wind, reminding me that we weren’t alone on a deserted island.
Was Angus having a good time somewhere? Or was he stuck standing outside the door to our suite?
“Where’s Angus?” I asked.
“Around.”
“Is Raúl here, too?”
“No. He’s in New York working out how Nathan’s bracelet ended up where it did.”
“Oh.” I suddenly lost my appetite. Picking up my napkin, I wiped my fingers. “Should I be worried?”
It was a rhetorical question, since I’d never stopped worrying. The mystery of who was responsible for sending the police in another direction was always there, niggling at the back of my mind.
“Someone handed me a get-out-of-jail-free card,” he said evenly, licking his lower lip. “I expected that was going to cost me something, but no one’s approached me yet. So, I’ll approach them.”
“Once you find them.”
“Oh, I’ll find them,” he murmured darkly. “Then we’ll know why.”
Beneath the table, I wrapped my legs around his and held on.
* * *
WE danced on the beach by the light of the moon. The lush humidity was sensuous at night, and we reveled in it. Gideon shared my bed that night, even though I could tell how difficult it was for him to take the risk. I couldn’t imagine sleeping alone on my wedding night and trusted that his prescription combined with the previous night’s lack of sleep would help him sleep deeply. It did.
Sunday, he gave me the choice of going to a fabulous waterfall or taking the resort’s catamaran out to sea or rafting down a jungle river. I smiled and told him next time, and then I had my wicked way with him.
We lazed around all day, skinny-dipping in the private pool and napping when the mood struck us. It was after midnight when we left, and I was sorry to go. The weekend had been far too short.
“We’ve got a lifetime of weekends,” he murmured as we drove back to the airport, reading my mind.
“I’m selfish with you. I want you all to myself.”
When we boarded the jet, the clothes we’d had at our disposal at the resort came with us. It made me smile, thinking of how little we’d worn over the two days.
I took the cosmetic case into the bedroom so I could brush my teeth before sleeping the duration of the flight home. That was when I saw the patent leather and brass luggage tag attached to it, engraved with Eva Cross.
Gideon slipped into the lavatory behind me and kissed my shoulder. “Let’s crash, angel. We need some sleep before work.”
Pointing at the luggage tag, I said, “Was my saying yes really that much of a foregone conclusion?”
“I was prepared to hold you hostage until you did.”
I didn’t doubt him. “I’m flattered.”
“You’re married.” He smacked me on the ass. “Now hurry up, Mrs. Cross.”
I hurried and slipped into the bed beside him. He immediately spooned behind me, tucking me close.
“Sweet dreams, baby,” I whispered, wrapping my arms over his around my middle.
His mouth curved against my neck. “My dreams already came true.”
